


Refraction

by Mshpiece



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: AU Magicatra, Alternate Universe - Adora Remains with the Horde (She-Ra), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Biting, Catra (She-Ra)-centric, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/F, F/M, Grooming, Magicatra AU, POV Catra (She-Ra), Past Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Princess Catra (She-Ra), Rewrite, Tags to update as story progresses, catradora, implications of abuse and grooming
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:13:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24472582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mshpiece/pseuds/Mshpiece
Summary: The world shifts. The balance is off. Roles are reversed, but it's dangerous.Adora gazes down at Catra. Her eyes are unwavering, but pierce regardless.Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.The Magicatra AU fic that no one asked for, but that I started writing anyways. Shout out to all the fanart and comics people drew of Horde Lord Adora, you're the ones to blame for this.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra)
Comments: 25
Kudos: 150





	1. Prelude

I don’t like words. They’re messy. They ruin things. Feelings might not have done much for me, but words haven’t brought anything but more hurt. Hurt I can’t wrap my head around. Pain is a language I’m fluent in.

I remember back before we had words to describe how we felt. Back when we were too young to understand what was so wrong. Back when each race, each spar, each laugh was nothing but joyous.

We raced, and danced, and ate, and tormented. We scoured and scavenged and seized at scraps of happiness, blissfully unaware it was amidst survival.

But it could only last so long.

***

“We’re definitely not allowed in there.”

Adora’s toothy grin gleaned over at Catra, and charged ahead. Catra followed close behind. The room was dark, with eerie traces and shades of red. In the center stood an enormous tower, with jagged edges protruding at different points. Catra walked toward it, entranced.

She felt an all too familiar jolt of pain stab her through her finger, sending a quick ripple throughout her entire body. Yelping, she pulled her hand back, not even aware she had extended it.

Adora put her hands together. “M-maybe we should get out of here,” she started, but was cut short by pained, moaning breaths.

Fear struck both their hearts as their stomachs turned inward. The two of them ran to hide as their teacher stumbled into the room.

Clutching the doorway, she lamented across the floor to a fountain, heaving all the while. She shook over the fountain, and as she began to convulse, removed her mask.

Adora’s eyes went wide with horror. Catra tried to reach over and cover her mouth with her hand but it was too late -- a gasp escaped.

Their teacher didn’t shoot upright into her affirmed erect position. There was none of her poised, threatening power in tact. Instead, she whipped her head over her shoulder, like an animal. Her face was gray, decayed, covered in scars. Adora sat, frozen.

“Get out!”

Catra grabbed Adora’s hand and pulled her out of their hiding spot, racing desperately toward the door. The familiar jolt of pain tingled at her hand and she felt Adora slip from her grasp.

Heart beating out of her chest, Catra turned around to see Adora surrounded by the threatening red-black magic. It immobilized her. Catra began to tremble as Adora’s eyes filled with confused tears, unfamiliar with the sensation of this physical torture.

Something was wrong. Something was very, very wrong.

“Adora, you stay.”

Catra ran at their teacher with agony. “We were just playing, I-”

She felt her weight thrown back behind her as she flew back outside the chamber. The doors shut as she watched Adora be forced to turn and sit at their teacher’s feet, still terrified, beginning to tremble.

Right as the door slammed, a shadow flitted out and threw itself into Catra’s ears, and into her face. She screamed in agony. She had been surrounded by the shadows before, but they had never been inside her like this. A voice kept repeating and repeating as Catra clawed at the fur on her face, trying to rip the shadow away.

_ “I will not let you drag Adora down. I will not let you drag Adora down. I will not let you drag Adora down.” _

Catra gave a blood-curdling scream and flailed her fists against the doors of the chamber. She screamed until her voice went sore, and pounded her hands until she could no longer feel them. She waited until she was reduced to the small, huddled child she resembled, and could barely crawled to the mess hall for dinner.

Adora was not there.

Finally at night after the other recruits fell asleep, Catra saw the lights flash briefly. She remained still as Adora trudged into her bed, dutifully pulling the covers up over her. Catra gave her a minute to adjust before poking her head below to look at her friend.

Adora’s eyes looked up quickly when she saw the movement in the dark but Catra could tell something was wrong. They weren’t bright like they usually were. Her smile hadn’t followed upwards when she gazed at Catra.

Catra swung down and quietly landed next to Adora.

“What happened?” she asked, barely making a sound.

Adora looked at her numbly, not saying anything. Catra nudged her with her foot and flicked her tail. Adora shook her head, and turned over.

“Adora, stop ignoring me!” Catra’s voice still hurt, but talking this softly was easy to maintain.

“Shadow Weaver told me something.” Adora pulled the covers up closer to her. “Something bad.”

“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Catra felt anxiety rushing in her chest.

Adora shook her head, then sat up to look at Catra.

“She told me something that I can’t tell anyone,” she said.

Catra scoffed. “Not even me? Shadow Weaver can’t do anything to hurt me.”

In the night, it looked like the color drained from Adora’s face. She looked down.

“Adora, it’s okay. Remember? Nothing really bad can happen as long as we have each other. You told me that.”

Adora didn’t say anything; she just sat, staring at her hands. Catra bit her lip nervously, then angrily dug deep with her fangs. She jumped back onto her bed, batting her tail back and forth.

The two didn’t sleep.

The next day, everything was wrong. Adora and Catra showed up for training with their regiment, but they were reserved. They were at a distance. Each race, each spar, each meal, was stunted, planned, reserved. They no longer laughed freely, no longer tormented cadets, no longer danced. Happiness was compartmentalized, and had a time frame attached.

It was the beginning of where things went wrong, and would last for the next ten years before the next mistake would occur.


	2. Catalyst Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is unrelated to the chapter:  
> A couple of people have been opening up their Ko-Fis for sketch commissions donating all proceeds to BLM. I'm going to be doing the same, but instead of sketches they'll be short form fics or fanfictions ($1-100 words up to $50 (5k)). I'll also be posting screencaps of all donations to BLM -- none of this money is staying with me.  
> My Ko-Fi is https://ko-fi.com/mstarcommand

The crack of a spear rang throughout the chamber as Adora and Lonnie sparred. Lonnie’s natural muscle came in advantage against Kyle and held her own against Rogelio, but wasn’t able to keep up to par with Catra’s sporadic movements. But Adora was in a league of her own. Poised training and dedication to improving left her constantly cool and confidant in combat. The two went head to head until Adora spun her spear around Lonnie and jabbed back, sending her to the ground with an alert that she had been eliminated.

Catra smiled. This was all typical. Adora always found an out with opponents; her diligence was a merit.

But watching Adora? That was Catra’s diligence.

“Nice going,” she said as Adora walked over to her and the other cadets. She held up her hand for a fist bump.

Adora smiled, and quickly tapped back.

“All right cadets, that’s a wrap. Report back in five.”

Adora glanced over at Catra as the other members of their squadron filed out. “You’ll never guess what happened.”

Catra groaned. “What, Lonnie nearly beat you? Please.”

Adora laughed. “No. This has nothing to do with Lonnie,” she said. She reached into her pocket and pulled out an enamel pin. Catra looked at it and raised her eyebrows.

It was a force captain badge.

“No way!” Catra squealed. “You got one?!”

Adora nodded, unable to stiffen her smile. “Shadow Weaver gave it to me before coming to training today. She commended me for how hard I had been training and showed me a record of how I had been improving over the past few years.”

Adora leaned back and exhaled. “What a relief. I had been getting nervous.”

Catra laughed. “Of course you were going to become a force captain,” she said. “No one else in our group works as hard as you do.”

Adora raised an eyebrow at her. “I saw everyone else’s record too,” she said. Catra sucked in her breath, anticipating the incoming lecture. “You could have become a force captain too. You’re just always slacking.”

“Yeah, but if I wasn’t slacking, I’d have to actually start doing and caring about things around here,” Catra joked. 

Adora frowned and looked back at the badge, running her finger over it. Catra let her face fall for a moment.

First it was every month. Then every week. But up to three days ago, without fail, Adora had been asked to Shadow Weaver’s chamber every day before training. Each time she returned, she was more reserved, more poised, less Adora. And each time she returned, she always had some indirect scolding from Shadow Weaver.

But Adora wouldn’t ever physically hurt Catra while disciplining her. She could take comfort in that, at least.

“There’s something else,” she said, softly.

Catra glanced over at her. “What is it?”

“I’m being sent to Thaymor, to curb rebel insurgence.” 

She pulled her shoulders back and reached into her pocket again, revealing a key. With a devilish look in her eyes, she grinned at Catra.

“I’m going to need to learn my way through the Whispering Woods on a tank,” she said, shaking the keys lightly. “But do you want to help me start exploring on a skiff?”

Catra grinned. Every now and then the Adora she knew popped out. “Absolutely,” Catra said. “Let’s get out of here.”

***

“Catra, I’m borrowing the skiff,” Adora shouted over the sound of the engine, “please don’t make me regret this!”

“No way,” Catra said, grabbing the control stick. “You’ll be driving a tank through here; I’m going to be the one who misses out!”

She laughed as Adora fought over the maneuvers with her. In moments like this, she forgot about happiness being fleeting, forgot about the time ticking before someone would walk by, make a comment to Shadow Weaver, forget about Adora always leaving obediently and returning cold as ice, hard as-

Oof.

The skiff slammed into a tree and Catra lost her grip, sliding off the skiff. She began to plummet to the ground and waved her hands above her, trying desperately to grab onto anything.

Her claws caught onto a vine and she dug in, clenching tightly as her descent slowed. She panted, trying to catch her breath.

“Catra!” Adora’s voice was far away. Catra looked down and saw she wasn’t too far from the ground. She let go.

Bending her knees as she landed, Catra squinted. It was unnaturally bright. 

“Princesses,” she muttered. She inched forward and saw a sword, beaming amid thorns surrounding its helm.

She walked toward it, in a daze. “Woah,” she said, then heard the engine of the skiff. She turned around to see Adora flying in toward her.

“There you are,” Adora said in relief, and then froze. “What are you doing?”

Catra pointed to the sword. “It was bright,” she said. “I wasn’t sure if it was a princess or not-”

“So you moved closer?!” Adora asked, angrily. “That’s dangerous! I wouldn’t have been around to protect you.”

Catra frowned. “You don’t have to protect me,” she said. 

Adora flipped her head the other way. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

Catra stepped toward the sword, starting to tear away at the thorns. One dug into her hand, and she yelped in surprise.

“Catra, what are you doing?!”

Scoffing, she turned around. “I’m taking this sword, obviously,” she said. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Don’t touch that,” Adora said. There was anger in her voice, and it surprised Catra. “It’s made by princesses, it’s not going to be safe.”

“Which is why we should bring it back,” Catra said. She started to laugh. “You might have gotten a force captain badge but I get to return with a confiscated princess weapon. They might have to promote me after all.”

“Don’t joke about things like that,” Adora snapped. 

Catra looked at her. Adora’s whole body was stiff and rigid. She was gripping the skiff so tightly her knuckles were turning white.

“Are you okay?”

“No! We need to leave,” Adora said. 

Catra frowned and jumped onto the skiff. “All right drama queen,” she muttered. Adora ignored her and spun the skiff around, blasting out of the woods. The two were silent the entire way back.

***

As Adora parked, Catra looked at her for the sixth time. Her expression was blank, almost weary. Catra had recognized the look before -- she was thinking about some task she needed to complete.

She hopped off the skiff and mechanically began walking out of the storage they were in. Catra jumped off after her and grabbed her hand. “Where are you going,” she asked. “We have maybe an hour tops before we go back to training.”

Adora raised her eyebrows. “You’re always late,” she said. “Why do you care?”

“Because you’re never late, and you’re going the wrong way.”

Adora shrugged Catra’s grasp off. “I’m going to tell Shadow Weaver what we saw.”

Catra’s eyes widened. “No!” she exclaimed. “She’s going to blame it all on me.”

“Catra, we can’t just pretend like we didn’t see that sword out there. If it fell into the wrong hands, it could be devastating to the Horde.”

“You wanted to leave it out there!” Catra shouted. She felt anger rising from deep within her. “You just wanted all the glory to yourself.”

“Catra, don’t be ridiculous,” Adora said. “I’m a force captain now, this isn’t about some game where we’re competing. This is part of the real war.”

Catra felt her arm tremble. “And how are you going to explain how we found the sword?”

Adora sighed. “I’m going to admit to her I took the skiff out.”

“You can’t do that!”

Adora was unwavering. “I have to. Whatever punishment she gives me, it’ll be fine. She needs to know about the sword.”

Catra glared at her.

“No.”

Adora paused. “What?”

“No. You’re not going to be punished,” she said, slowly letting out her anger through her voice. “I am.”

Catra froze as Adora laughed. Her voice didn’t ring out like sweet bells in Catra’s ears; they were shrill, mocking.

“Why would you be punished?” she asked. “You didn’t do anything.”

Catra blinked. 

Adora continued, oblivious to the trembling that climbed Catra’s arm into her whole body. “You always think Shadow Weaver is out to get you, but that’s just not true. She just wants you to improve and show more respect. You have this paranoia that she’s going to show up and hurt you, and that’s just not the case.”

She smiled warmly. “I won’t even mention your name. She won’t know you were involved at all.”

She turned away, and raised a hand above her shoulder. “Head to training. I’ll see you in a bit.”

Catra numbly watched her walk away. Her face started throbbing as the small hum that always played in her mind was in focus.

_ I will not let you drag Adora down. I will not let you drag Adora down. I will not let you drag Adora down. _

_ I will  _ **_dispose_ ** _ of you  _ **_myself_ ** _. Do you understand? _

She closed her eyes, feeling the throbbing and tears mix. She lifted the keys that she snuck from Adora’s pocket and climbed back onto the skiff. She slammed the keys into the machine and shakily flew out.

All those years ago, Catra was worried Adora would finally get a taste of the suffering Shadow Weaver brought. But it was always the same. She was coddled, comforted, taken care of. She was living out of Shadow Weaver’s palm, while Catra lived beneath its crushing weight.

She couldn’t come back. She could never come back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize this is pretty fast paced, but I'm definitely planning on extrapolating more and more -- I just wanted to set up the world first.  
> Let me know what you think so far! Part 2 should be up soon~


	3. Catalyst Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder that I'm taking commissions for $1=100 word fic up to $50 donations, where all proceeds go to BLM or any other organization that you request. I am not keeping ANY of the proceeds. ALL of it will be donated to BLM. My Ko-Fi is https://ko-fi.com/mstarcommand  
> Now is not the time to stay quiet. Speak up. Share resources. Share articles. Don't let this fire die out. And remember that we cannot create a sustainable future without making sure we're sustaining ourselves.
> 
> ************************************************WARNING FOR CATALYST PART 2**********************************************
> 
> **Please proceed through this chapter with caution if you're a survivor of parental abuse and manipulation and/or child grooming. While there is nothing sexual in the chapter, the interaction depicted imply tactics seen in abuse and grooming.**

Adora paced the corridors of the Fright Zone confidently, but felt herself waver a little as she approached Shadow Weaver’s chamber. She exhaled, trying to remove her doubt and fear. Shadow Weaver said that a leader left emotion out of their work; that it made leadership weak, allowed for responsibilities to waver.

She put a smile on and stood outside of the doors. She never knocked. Shadow Weaver always knew when she was there, somehow. She would open the doors for Adora when she felt her pupil was in the right mindframe to enter. Sometimes it would be immediate. Sometimes it could take up to an hour. So she needed to get in the right mindframe.

Adora inhaled and exhaled again. The doors opened, and Adora comfortably walked into the familiar dark shadow-covered room. She felt her emotions steady as soon as she walked in, almost melting away. The air seemed to caress and brush her face steadily as she approached Shadow Weaver, who was staring into her fountain.

“Adora,” she said, turning to face her. “We’ve already met once today.”

“Shadow Weaver, I’m reporting back with something,” she said.

“What is it?” she asked. “Questions about Thaymor?”

“No,” Adora said, shaking her head. “It’s about something I found in the Whispering Woods.”

She felt fear rising. The air grew teeth, digging into her cheek. She maintained her steady breathing.  _ If I don’t react, she won’t bite. _

“You found something in the Whispering Woods? Why were you there?” Shadow Weaver asked, immediately agitated. “You know how dangerous it is.”

“I found it.”

Shadow Weaver froze. Adora maintained her steady position, expecting Shadow Weaver to ask further.

She didn’t.

Adora felt her anxieties start to slip in. Her fear grew fangs and started to push beneath her skin. She exhaled shakily.

“I found the sword,” she said, tensely. “I was exploring the woods to prepare for Thaymor, and saw the sword. It was tangled in thorns.”

She looked at Shadow Weaver, expecting her to say something now. But she was met with more silence.

“I didn’t touch it,” Adora quickly said, then sighed. “I left as soon as I saw it. And then came to tell you.”

Adora felt her knees grow weak. She gasped, and then sat down. “I thought you might want to know,” she said quietly. “That it’s out there. That I saw it. And that -- the rebellion -- they could use it to take me.”

“Adora.”

She gasped and looked up at Shadow Weaver, who had moved closer to her. Shadow Weaver knelt down and took her face in her hands. She closed her eyes, expecting the comforting, warm touch that would melt her fears away.

Instead she gripped Adora’s cheek, and she felt her fear bite into her hard. She exclaimed in pain as Shadow Weaver clenched tighter.

“Where did you find it?!”

“In the Whispering Woods!” Adora gasped. “It was in the ground, fairly early in.”

“And you didn’t  _ grab  _ it?”

“You told me that it would activate- that it would activate as soon as I came into contact!”

Shadow Weaver released Adora by tossing her face roughly to the side. “We must go retrieve it. Now that we know it’s out there, it’s only a matter of time before the princesses find it -- and find you.”

Holding her cheek in her face, trying to fruitlessly rub away at the sensation that something had been sinking its teeth into the sides of her face, Adora looked up at Shadow Weaver. “But they can’t find me if I don’t activate the sword! And they can’t use the sword without me.”

The teeth seemed to recede as Shadow Weaver knelt to Adora. She extended a hand. Adora obediently took it, and rose to her feet, a breath caught in her throat.

“We can’t give them that hope,” Shadow Weaver said.

Adora exhaled. As she realized that she had been holding her breath, Shadow Weaver tucked a strand of hair back behind Adora’s ear. Adora stiffened, standing up straight.

“Thank you,” she said mechanically. She had let her emotions get the better of her. She couldn’t be hysterical. Especially when the threat of turning into-

The memory of the glowing sword seared through Adora’s mind. She grimaced and instinctively sucked in her stomach.

“You’re right,” she said. “We need to retrieve the sword.”

She took another deep breath. “Shadow Weaver, will you give me temporary for the evening?”

Shadow Weaver gave a curt nod.

“Will you accompany me to the Whispering Woods to retrieve the…”

Adora started to falter, but pushed ahead. “To retrieve the weapon left by the rebelling princesses?”

She looked at her teacher patiently. A moment of empty silence lingered.

“Yes. But we must move quickly. Do you remember how you got to the woods?”

“On a skiff. I know which one I took.”

Shadow Weaver brushed past Adora quickly, and Adora followed in stride. The two walked with authority, responsibility etched on their faces.

As they entered the dock, Adora instinctively reached into her pocket, staring straight ahead. Her fingers grasped fabric as her eyes settled on nothing.

The skiff was gone. And so was the key.

“It- it was right there,” Adora said, turning to look at Shadow Weaver. “No other skiff was gone.”

Shadow Weaver’s hands balled up into a fist. “Who could have possibly taken a skiff out?”

“I don’t know.” Adora could feel herself gasping. “When we got back no one was here-”

“What do you mean,  _ we _ ?”

“Catra and I. I told her to go to training before I-”

“You took Catra with you?!”

“Yes, but then I went straight to you-”

Shadow Weaver seemed to loom over her. Adora felt the words leave her mouth and her mind grow numb.

“You stole the keys to a skiff, traveled into dangerous and erratic enemy lines, found something that could have killed you, and brought an incompetent cadet-”

“Catra is not incompetent,” Adora said. 

Shadow Weaver ignored her and grabbed a different set of keys. Adora rushed after her and jumped on as the engine whirled to life.

The two were focused, staring straight ahead and silent as they flew over the desert of the Fright Zone and to the edges of the woods. The sand gradually shifted to loose grass, then patches sporadically spread until it became a thick forest floor. Adora heard whispers in the trees as the wind rustled her jacket. She looked around before standing and grabbing control of the rudder. They inched past the ivy and branches that adorned the woods like a canopy. 

“It was fairly early in,” she said softly.

The thick blocked out the sky, and cast shadows that passed over them. Adora scanned the woods for the sharp, protruding cliff and the thorns that coated the floor.

She spotted a hint of the brown, snaking vine and yanked the rudder to follow its path. Gazing at it, Adora navigated it and looked up to see the cliff, bright and white like before.

But the sword was gone.

Adora paused, then pressed forward. She slowed the engine when the skiff was above where the sword had been last, hovering above the mess of thorns.

“It...it was here,” she said. “I don’t know where it went.”

She felt a wave of anxiety run over her. “Do you think that princesses could have located it already?” she asked fearfully. 

“I don’t know.”

Adora felt her heart drop. She sat down and put her head in her hands.

“I’m sorry...I thought I was being responsible by leaving it here. But-but Catra was with me and she could have taken it and held onto it and I could have avoided it but I made a mistake...and it’s gone again but now that I know it’s here it’s going to loom over me even more than-”

“Adora,” Shadow Weaver said, and Adora felt tension she hadn’t realized she had been holding in her arms suddenly release.

“What could have happened if you had accidentally transformed when you were here earlier?”

Unable to help it, Adora closed her eyes and looked away.

“You don’t help anyone by putting them in danger like that.”

She started shaking her head, trying to chase the scenario away. “You’re right,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

“For now, it’s as it has been before,” Shadow Weaver said. 

The skiff turned around and Adora felt her ponytail whip around as she was turned from the cliff to the desert beckoning her back home. Adora shook her head again quickly, and nodded solemnly.

But she couldn’t shake the sensation of teeth biting into her face again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I love writing Adora in this au (even though it's so painful). Leave a comment about how much you want Shadow Weaver to die!!!


End file.
